


Pompidou, Where are you!

by pheloxiraptor



Series: Pompidou, where are you! [1]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Adventure, Alyssa - Freeform, Are, Atonement - Freeform, Brooke - Freeform, Case, Chloe - Freeform, Comic, Dana - Freeform, Daniel - Freeform, David - Freeform, Dog - Freeform, Episode: 4 Dark Room, Funny, Gen, Grant - Freeform, Hilarity, Humor, Justin - Freeform, Kate - Freeform, Logan - Freeform, Love, Mystery, Parody, Party, Pompidou - Freeform, Revenge, Samuel - Freeform, Science, Stella - Freeform, Suspense, Taylor - Freeform, Thriller, Tragedy, Trevor - Freeform, Victoria - Freeform, Warren - Freeform, beans, courtney - Freeform, frank - Freeform, joyce - Freeform, juliet - Freeform, mark jefferson - Freeform, max - Freeform, nathan - Freeform, rachel - Freeform, vortex - Freeform, where, you - Freeform, zachary - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-02 12:54:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5248967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pheloxiraptor/pseuds/pheloxiraptor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Max is missing. Chloe is dead. A nomadic serial killer is on the loose in the dark depths of Arcadia Bays and it's up to Pompidou and the gang to search for Max before time runs out and a tornado hits Arcadia Bay, killing everyone in sight. Join Pompidou and the gang - Alyssa, Stella, Frank and many more - in a race against time. A funny and adventurous mystery yet to be unfold in a five chapters series as the characters are not always the protagonist and the sidekick but her friends and frenemies. Based on the actions, decisions and consequences of one of the greatest game in 2015: Life is Strange</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter one: Where on Earth is Max Caulfield?

The story begins in a video game: inside a dilapidated trailer by the sandy beach shore, Frank was cranking up the electricity to maximum voltage to pump up his latest gadgets and gizmos in order to invest his free time building up his entire notoriety and empire from scratch. By using his technique in manufacturing and marketing and intimidation, he was able to monopolize the drug industry by settling here whilst gunning down his enemies and recruiting prostitutes as his allies; yes, he was in fact playing Grand Theft Auto V, and not recreating this very scenes in reality; because if he intentionally delivered this ordeal, he would have gone in serious shit with the law, and that was not the Frank Bowers Arcadia Bays knew and loved.

Frank was indeed a very laid-back drug dealer and manufacturer. He might have exude the malignancy that most parents would instruct their children to get away from, or not to grow up to become a drug dealer like him; but deep inside his heart, he didn't care much about them and their opinions and the futures of stupid children, so fuck them. He did prudentially possessed a very gentle, compassionate heart and a penchant for animals and nature altogether. He learn to love nature and animals by meeting the love of his life, Rachel Ambers, and his man of honor, Pompidou, although, give or take, he was definitely a dog, or a sire. Rachel had astonishingly opened his eyes, took him wonder by wonder around Arcadia Bay and the state of Oregon, in hope that she can awaken his spirituality and emotions that needed to be tended and fulfilled; after all Frank was particularly not the man, who never did much received the love and appreciation he wanted because he was a drug dealer, and his poor hygiene and tattoos frighten some people, including Max Caulfield, who still covets his small black book of the names of his customers.

Hopefully, she and Chloe would return his book because he needed to make a sell for the purpose of making a living. He could have gotten a real job but he was not hone with the ambition he had expostulate in the virtual game of GTA V than he did in real life. For hours, he was very much engrossed in the game: it was released a month ago, and he didn't want to surcease from playing; he never knew the maximum hype gamers give for the game until he got the game himself and a superlative gaming laptop like Alienware which he purchased it over the internet. He was so stoked into killing people and stealing cars and exploring where he could have gone before, unless his income permits him. It has dawn on him that Los Santos resembled so much like Los Angeles, a place to where he wanted to take Rachel one day and make her famous.

Of course there was nothing in his mind that can impress him as to why his beau wanted to go to Los Angeles just to be famous in the first place. He knew she was brilliantly smart for instance getting excellent GPA, participating in club activities, and having a good reputation around the school by which would have been a leverage for her to launch her for any scholarships Blackwell Academy has to offer. But she needed come clear to the acknowledgement that Arcadia Bay was a small town in which pretty much everyone knew her, however Los Angeles was huge city, and she had to come to her senses that the world did not revolve around her, or the reality that the world owes her and everyone absolutely nothing. Los Angeles would have indubitably convinced her that she was nothing just like the people who come there by pursuing a career as an actor or a model for fame and fortune. She might have Arcadia Bay in her hand like the Prescott but she should damn well that Los Angeles would never feel sorry for her as the city throw her in the gutter or the dump.

Thinking of Rachel Ambers made him so depressed that playing this game was the only temporal substance he needed to relieve his pain and agonies of her. He paused the game at the same moment he suddenly heard scuttling and rustling sounds outside his domicile. He whipped out his pocket knife but knowing that Pompidou did not snarl or bark, so it must have been the presence of someone less inclined to be dangerous and perilous than the police or Nathan, but he still wields his pocket knife in case anything unexpected transpired. It must be someone he must know. He opened the door wide and when he noticed the quarry to be one of his best customers he ever had, he smiled.

"STELLA," he greeted, mockingly referencing to the movie starring the legendary Marlon Brando, A Streetcar name Desire!

The fuchsia-appareled, spectacled girl crossed her arms indignantly, probably loathing her name thanks to that bloody movie. "Are you trying to be the impressionable Marlon Brando because you don't possessed any of his qualities."

Frank did his Godfather impersonation with the arched lip and use his resonating voice to prescribed the fusion of Italian accent and Brooklyn accent: "Well, if it didn't faze you that I did want to go Los Angeles and audition to become a famous actor."

"I see...I thought we agree in our negotiation that you would call me dachshund from now on."

"I know but that darn hipster got my black book so I don't know anyone's names."

Alyssa simultaneously came out of the shadows and imposed her threatening, ominous fury over Frank, waving her pointed finger at him and scolding him. "I knew it. You have Max in there. I saw her going inside your trailer the other day when I was at the bus stop, and I saw you inside the Two Whales Diner."

"Whoa, whoa," Frank backed away into his trailer, feeling intimidated, "what the fuck! Stella Hill, you did not just brought back up so you can rob me?"

"No, she came along to find Max Caulfield but I came here for my daily medical prescription -" Alyssa nudged at her shoulder with her fist, probably leaving a bruise because Alyssa had muscles bulging out of her knuckles, and if Stella Hill happed to be confronted by someone with a brass knuckle, she would definitely make a comparison on which was more deadlier: Alyssa's knuckle or the weapon. "I meant I'm also here to find Max Caulfield." There was an indication of feigned interest in her statement.

"You mean that darn hipster with a camera: she's probably experimenting her sexuality with Chloe -" Then he shook his head in confusion and leered banefully at Alyssa. "And what do you mean about that hipster girl coming into my territory."

Alyssa did not back down and ignore Frank completely as though he was someone that does not possess the privilege of conversing with her. "Stella, in my good conscience, I don't understand why you hang out with a bum like him."

"I don't hang out with him!" Stella retorted, indignantly, incriminated by the seditious remark her best friend expunged upon her. "I only purchase some pharmaceutical drugs from him for my ADHD; I can't study without them, and you know I want to get a scholarship from Blackwell to get to a good university: it would be a completion of my lifelong achievement."

Frank was aghast at the short, compelling goals this generation have foisted upon themselves. "You don't want to travel the world...or master oil painting...or something like that. Kids, you don't need to be in your twenties to accomplish anything because you have a whole life ahead of you...and when you pass your twenties and going on in your thirties, do not think for a second that your life is over because you didn't accomplish whatever it is you wanted to accomplish in your twenties; you have to keep going in life no matter what the stupid society tells you."

"Is this some kind of obligation to have to pay you for giving advice now?"

"No: this advice is free of charge - use it or not, it really doesn't matter." Frank said sluggishly then he turned his sight directly to Alyssa. "Okay, so you're telling me the hipster girl was trespassing into my property? This time: no bullshit."

"Her name is Max; and is she going to be in trouble if I say yes." Alyssa replied, anxiously.

"No, why would I be mad: Chloe is her friend, and since I don't really bother putting my faith in Chloe, because she still owe me five grand; but I do have faith in her pet monkey."

Stella found this conversation amusing. "Oh, what did she promise you?"

Frank sighed: "She promised to get my Rachel back."

Alyssa intervened: "You gotta help us find Max: she was not in her dorm, and Mr. Madsen been looking for her and his stepdaughter around Blackwell."

"Hey, don't you dare tell me what to do?" Frank revolted. "And why should I help you?"

Stella and Alyssa stood there in silence, cogitating on the reason of why Frank would help anyway: he never helps anyone but himself.

Alyssa hypothetically came to the belief by quickly adding something before Frank could push them away: "Because...that girl, Chloe, is like a family member to you."

Stella added quickly: "Without her, you would not have met the popular Rachel Ambers of Arcadia Bay."

"You love Rachel just like you love eating beans." Alyssa implied, putting the two notions into a simile. "I saw how much you wolfed down on Joyce's delectable refried beans at the diner...and you always ask for second."

"Without Chloe, I would have never be able to purchase drugs from you." Stella wax her feelings.

"And...ohana means family and family means no one gets left behind." Alyssa referenced a quote from one of her favorite movie into the dispute.

Frank surrendered and gestured his hands aloft as his own illustration of a white flag waving in the air. "All right, all right: I don't like the sentiments and emotions coming in my way; I'll help."

Alyssa and Stella cheered, celebrating their victory over a dispute from a drug dealer but Frank did not fancy how loud they were.

"Would you mind keeping it down?" Frank interjects. "You don't have a fucking clue on how we have to live."

"Why don't you get a honest job?" Alyssa inquired.

"Don't start." Frank scorned.

"Okay, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

Frank shushed her completely and turned to Stella, who stride with confidence, lacking any fear as to what Frank can implement. "I'll help only if you promise me that I won't get in trouble with your little Nancy Drew's mystery adventure."

"We swear we promise that we won't use as a scapegoat if anything goes wrong." Stella obligated.

"No, that's too general."

"Then what promises we ought to keep?"

"Like, when the cops arrive, you say you force me to be entangle with your little plight."

"I don't think the cops would believe in two helpless girls forcing a drug dealer what to do...you have to see the gravity in this matter."

"Yeah, shucks."

"But we can promise you that we will everything in our power to convince the police that you were helping us find Max and Chloe."

"Yeah, anything to make me look good."

"Now: will you finally join us in solving this mystery?"

"You got yourself a deal: let's go find that peeping tom and Chloe."

"Her name is Max." Alyssa stated, sharply.

"And this is my territory: I can say what I want and do what I want. Welcome to American trash."

"You can say that again." Alyssa rolled her eyes.

"Don't push it." Frank grunted then he signaled to his faithful companion, Pompidou. "Hey, boy, we're going on a trip: join me in the cockpit." The dog assented and vaulted to the bow of the trailer; Frank followed.

Alyssa glanced complacently at Frank and Pompidou, projecting a nostalgic memory from her childhood. "That fermented-breath hooligan and his dog kind of remind me of that dynamic duo who constantly eats a lot."

"Don't even start ruining my favorite cartoon." Stella snapped and went inside the fetid trailer and find herself a place to sit down. Alyssa went in last and shut the door before trying to get herself comfortable inside this volatile domicile Frank would called home.

From the driver seat, Frank announced to his fellow passengers: "Please settle down, get yourself comfortable: it's going to be a bumpy ride. Don't say I didn't warn you? " He ignited the engines and waited till the motor warmed off for it to be ready to instigate.

Stella was behind Frank, seeing that he was more than just a mere acquaintanceship, she finally decided that it was time to ask the big question: looking at her perspective she was of mixed race and Frank was white with various compilation of many different Anglo-sax ethnicities. "Hey, I was wondering why do you sporadically wear your Confederate flag hat?"

"Are you racist?" Alyssa invoked, insinuating whether it was meant for Stella or Frank, they did not know.

He turned to his passengers: "I'm not a racist fellow whose mind is close from ideologies and shit; this Confederate hat was a gift from my father, and it's the only thing I can remember him by. If I were a racist asshole, I would not let you inside my shitty trailer, or my home. Also I wouldn't sell you any of my goods, be that as it may, I'm not racist. Period."

"Sorry, I just ask; I did not mean to push your buttons." Stella intoned quietly as she walked back to the booth where his Alienware computer is."

"That's all right: no hard feeling was input." She backed the trailer and turned his head to his passengers. "Hold on to something because I'm actually fucking serious."

Alyssa leered at Stella quite menacingly and pushed her down to the window side. "Stop hogging the entire seat, Stella."

"I am not." Stella retorted, indignantly.

They both shoved and pushed each other like Justin and Trevor until Frank drove off into the night.

 


	2. American Rust

Frank's debilitating trailer drove to the forested asphalt road in the dead of night, where silence was everything he ever appreciated when driving through the winding path with his loyal companion, and best friend, Pompidou by the window, spluttering saliva and whining in fear of the darkness looming behind; but unfortunately Frank was having a complicated time meditating in silence when he was dealing with two teenaged women on the back of his wagon.

"I need to urinate but your bathroom smells." Alyssa whined, aggravating Frank as he drives the trailer.

"What do you want me to do about it? Clean it for you? I have to drive." He switched his glance to Stella. "Where on earth am I supposed to drive?"

"You know Chloe well, right? Where else would she go other than Blackwell or her house?" Stella inquired.

A dimmed light bulb hovering over his head suddenly ignited as a memory triggered his instinct. "I know where she hangs out."

"I need to pee." Alyssa whined, holding it in as she squirmed.

"We're not far from there so sit your ass down, will you?"

Alyssa obsequiously complied to what Frank ordered her to do because her trepidation of Frank kicking her out in the middle of the woods was gradually becoming a potential risk lest she did not kept her mouth shut; but she really needed to expunge her bladder, and she wouldn't have to if she did not order a large pint of cherry Slurpee at the seven eleven. She swiveled her conversation from Frank to Stella. "I thought we were looking for Max."

"We are! Where ever Chloe goes, Max goes along with her." Stella said, nonchalantly.

Alyssa detected a slight implementation of jealously and anathema resonating from Stella's latent, contemptuous attitude. It had never occurred upon her mind as to why Stella has been despising Max this recently, but she dismissed this as though she would soon be entering a forbidden territories on which she ought to be very cautious and understanding to not tread. Sensing that Stella did not care for what happened to Max Caulfield.

"Do you ever consider them as, you know, more than friends?"

Stella recoiled at the idea that Chloe and Max were together, not that she had any prejudices against homosexual relationships, but it was because she was not so ideal with romantic interest and feelings between friends and acquaintances; and she could very well care less about Max's romantic life. "It's not my business to say because I am not concern with their lives." Stella's response was becoming more caustic and cold, numbing Alyssa to the core.

"Why are you here?"

"Pharmaceutical transaction."

"You've acting so differently towards Max lately: are you mad at her?" Alyssa inquired, curiously.

"I'm not; and why do bring such questions to the table." Stella quickly snapped.

"That's a lie. Is this like reverse psychology when you say one thing but actually mean the other."

Stella did not want to dispute with Alyssa so she ignore her completely by administering Frank as an opportune transition to converse with, hindering Alyssa from getting her chance to speak: "You know this isn't a place for a queen like Rachel Ambers?"

"I haven't been cleaning since her disappearance. If she ever returned, I would clean up and use the money to get a decent place just for her. Probably get a new job. A haircut. A cat -"

Pompidou caught the last word and snarled at Frank immediately before Frank could understand his dog's feelings.

"I was just kidding about the cat part."

Pompidou felt alleviated and poked his head out the window to feel the cold wind smacking his face.

Frank muttered, lugubriously: "You never wanted me to have a cat."

Frank careened his trailer over the train tracks and drove hazardously into the tumultuous wilderness as the headlight aided his poor vision on the old, rustic dump, where Chloe inadvertently introduced him to Max, and where he did not graduate himself on making his very first impression to the peeping Tom when he threatened Chloe with a knife because she owes him five grand. Pondering about that altercation distraught him more than ever because he was not furious about the money, he was furious about Rachel's sudden disappearance: he did not come to realize it could be unintentional, and that she might be kidnapped against her own free will.

Seeing those old discarded heap of vintage appliances and cars and out-of-business merchandises made him sad, not about those material things, but about being dismissed because he was not physically attractive anymore to attract another mate, lest Rachel had ditched for a better-looking man. He didn't care much about his physical appearance too much, for what is worth he only cared about those who understood him and care for him, and seeing people these days concerning their relationships based solely on physical appearances and prestigious opulence had sunk his desire to live. All he wanted was Rachel but Rachel wanted someone to champion her career in becoming a model in Los Angeles: would that mean ditching him for good? Who knows?

Frank got out of the driver seat and glided towards the exit with Pompidou. Following him was Alyssa who pushed him aside so drastically because her urgent need to find the nearest resort to expunge her bladder was an imperative protocol, and there were no exceptions. Pompidou and Frank looked at each other confusedly, and walked out from the trailer along side Stella whose defensive guards were up and ready.

"Did you come here to kill us?" Stella asked, frightened by how secluded they were from the rest of densely-populated civilization.

"Uh...no, as a matter of fact this is Chloe's hangout. You see that building over there by the train tracks and the abandoned boat." He pointed her the direction of where Chloe and Rachel would hang out together and hide from the rest of the world.

Stella squinted her eyes to catch the sight at which the luminous light of the trailer's head-beam casts. "Yeah, I see."

"There you go, enjoy your investigation." Frank lend Stella two flashlights: one for her and one for her nuisance friend.

"Wait, you're not coming with us?" Stella inquired.

"No: I will be your chauffeur, and you guys be the Hardy Boys."

"But -"

"What about some grilled cheese sandwiches once you're done with the investigation?"

"I did not sign up for this." Stella invoked, sternly.

"Me neither; and I am not going to ditch you guys if you're so worried about that."

"Fine, you could stay here in the trailer while me, Alyssa and Pompidou investigate." asserted Stella with more authoritative than she can exude.

"Go ahead: take Pompidou with you: he can take surveillance." Frank assented, congenially. He took out a beach chair from the trailer and set it in front of the trailer, which he would call his porch each time he reconcile the trailer in some locations.

Alyssa had returned from her very own makeshift, rudimentary latrine in the junkyard and took this opportunity in the very anticipation of spooking Stella. "Hey, Stella!"

"Ugh...you didn't wash your hand!" Stella screeched.

"I had anticipated that you were going to say that, but before you freak out at how disgusting I am, hear me out," Alyssa produced a miniscule item from her pocket. "I desensitized my hands by using this antibacterial hand sanitizer, now in a pocket-sized for your convenience."

"Are you planning to audition for an advertisement, Alyssa?"

"No...maybe...I don't know, anymore ." Alyssa placed her hand behind her head and scratched them.

"Let's get a move on: I don't want to be suspended from Blackwell for not being present in my dorm, like Max."

"Not really, Max was suspended because she didn't warn Principal Wells about Nathan the first time." Alyssa defended Max.

"As if, doesn't it ever occurred to you that she's been pointing blame on people like David and Mr. Jefferson. It sucks that Mr. Jefferson couldn't even go to San Francisco because of her."

"Well, are you forgetting that Mr. Jefferson made Kate cry and led her to commit suicide."

Stella sighed exasperatingly, knowing that Alyssa was correct on the money about Mr. Jefferson who was responsible for hurting their best friend. "You are right, but there were many other things that made her cry."

"Yup, you can say that again."

They followed Pompidou to the secret lair of Rachel Ambers and Chloe Price, which was like their rendition of Superman's Fortress of Solitude, but with wildlife and trees all around them. This is where they hide from the world and find solace and peace amidst the tainted beauties of what mother nature had to offer for these two expatriates of society. Inside their concrete fortress was a cluster of miscellaneous and plain everyday junks like empty bottles, confectionaries, magazines, empty pizza boxes, and cigarette butts. If Chloe had forgotten to extinguish her cigarette and deliberately toss it into the forest, Smokey Bear will swear vengeance against Chloe Price; and instead of missing posters of Rachel Ambers everywhere, it will be a bounty on Chloe's head in case she was not too careful.

Chloe might have admire nature but she did not give a rat's ass about cleaning up after herself, or at least recycle. At the entrance there were doodles done on ink of Rachel Ambers and Pompidou and opposite from the epicenter was Chloe and Rachel announcing their final departure to Los Angeles. On top of the doodle was a dart and nothing serious about that but a grand time for the dynamic duo to spend leisurely in their adventurous excursions. Some of the old, brittle, rained-down walls were furnished with torn magazine covers and pages, graffiti of defenestrated fishes, post-it notes art, square stickers, movie posters, and illuminati signs, all of which things on the looked exactly like a tumblr profile for real life expeditionary. Hanging against the wall was an exquisite elephant painting rendered in ink and acrylic; and by which were passenger seats modified as sitting instruments for the future derelicts.

Instead of using their application of time musing around for trifles detecting Chloe and Rachel's non-epicurean taste in art and aestheticism, Stella employed this virtue to find clues on the whereabouts of Chloe and Max. On the wall where the window was adjacent was the semblance of the girl's penmanship. Chloe wrote down that she was here, followed by Rachel and the poor, third-in-the-crowd Max Caulfield had done so to make herself present; but the "was" in "Rachel was here" had been encircled and written above it was "is," whilst the names Max and Chloe were encircled, annotating at the bottom of the third signature which was a threatening statement screaming in agony: "You're all going to die!" bleeding out in red paint.

Stella and Alyssa scrammed out to the exit, vaulted to the trailer as fast as their two feet go, and found Frank in the trailer marinating some Salisbury steaks. Frank, distraught at their appearance and pallor, asked what had happened before he can tenderized the meat. The girls explained to him what they had found in Chloe's fortress and an icy-cold drop of sweat crept down onto Frank's back as all his hair on his neck went up.

"What the hell are we waiting for? Let's get the hell out of this town!" Frank exclaimed, and the two girls obliged and went inside his trailer. Frank dashed into the cockpit and simultaneously ignited the engines, but he hesitated in pushing the accelerator when he noticed something was amiss: his loyal buddy, Pompidou.

"Where's Pompidou?" He turned to the girls.

"I thought you have him?" Alyssa asked Stella.

"No. He wasn't with us when we were investigating the fortress." Stella said, tentatively.

"One of you girls go get him." Frank commanded at his maximum volume.

"No sire, Bob, I am not going outside with a serial killer on the loose, probably wondering around trying to capture one of us." Alyssa said. "Stella, you go.'

"I am not fulfilling your death wish!" She scorned in derision, and, aghast at the bleak outlook of her life, she turned to Frank who probably did not have much life left in him. "What don't you go Frank?"

"Me? What about integrity and teamwork?" Frank keenly reminded them on what they promise.

"Well, that went down the drain." Alyssa commented rather bluntly.

"Why don't we all go together?" Frank suggested.

"No; what if the killer slashed the tires then how we go from there?" Alyssa informed him the possible premonition she had portend.

"I can't leave him: he's my buddy." Frank cried out.

Stella sighed in exasperation and surrendered to his term: "Fine, we all go. Frank, bring whatever weapon you could muster out for us, and Alyssa," she leered, sensing that Alyssa might run away and bail them all into the hands of the serial killer. "You better have my back."

"Aye-aye, captain." Alyssa made a salutary gesture but as Frank left the cockpit to search for weapons, she whispered into her friend's ears. "Do you think he might have slaughter those girls?"

"What - no!" Stella retorted.

Alyssa attempted to convince her delirious friend: "He might have killed Rachel out of jealously, then he went on a killing spree and upon his berserk, he stumbled upon Chloe because he discovered that...that Rachel and Chloe were a thing...and poor Max," she gulped in sadness, "she might have witnessed the whole thing, and he killed her like...pew-pew-pew-pow-pow-pow-bam-bam-bam..." then she orchestrated the Psycho theme as she reenacted the shower scene.

"What the hell are you doing?" Frank asked as he was behind Alyssa, sneering at the entire scenario.

"She just thought you were the killer." Stella responded, nonchalantly.

Alyssa nudged her shoulder with her bulk fist. "Why would say that to him?"

"For god's sake, that hurts like hell! And to answer your question, he is not a killer."

"Don't underestimate people too easily, Stella." Alyssa warned her.

Frank ignored this stupid commotion and scurried out the door and turned to them once they exit the trailer. "Whatever you do: do not try to kill each other!" He handed Stella a loaded gun and Alyssa a large pot and pan while he equipped himself with a knife and the vigilance to remain at the front as the girls have his back. It always came as an instinct to lock the door after exiting outside the vicinity of his home, and he did just for safe caution.

They walked to the path where the fortress was positioned but not a Pompidou there nor anywhere, so they searched around the perimeter until they found a verdant tier where Max had once captured the essence of a translucent doe as she first visited Chloe's fortress of solitude. They marched upwards to the grassy roots of the untainted earth from the man-made waste, and found the umber-colored, hairy beast reposing silently at the side of a shallow excavation that once was interred by someone whom Frank has always love.

"Hey, boy, we've been looking all over for you." Frank comforted the poor dog, but the dog did not look excited to meet him. "Whacha got there, boy?"

Frank noticed a torn patch from a shirt he recognized: it was a plaid, checkerboard full-sleeved shirt that his vessel of love would ordinarily wear when no other clothes would orchestrated to her mood.

"That's Rachel's cloth." He held it to his chest and sniffed the article as all those good memories and even few bad ones he had with Rachel, flooded into his mind, reducing him to tears. "My Rachel...someone fucking hurt my Rachel."

He was ventilating and pumping his fists against the dirt floor. "Someone is going to pay for my Rachel." He leered into the distance like he was performing an intense soliloquy on stage: "I am going to find this fellow, and when I do, oh, he better watch his back, because I am not giving this fucker any mercy, not what he did to my Rachel: I am going to perform an operation on him while he is kicking and breathing, then I am going to open him slowly and fuck with his entrails. You better watch out, whoever you are! What you did to my Rachel will not be compared to what I will do to you."

He launched himself upwards, alerting the girls and Pompidou and held onto Rachel's shirt and return back to the trailer with them. It would have been a sinister ending to unravel if Alyssa, as a penchant of hers, of course, did not turn the records of the turntables around to the directions where the readers wanted this chapter to end.

"If it's not too late to say this, but I don't think he's the killer."

Stella rolled her eyes and went inside the trailer before Alyssa turned this conversation into an obnoxious and head out somewhere, a place where Frank could gather an informant to help him with the case.

 

 

 


	3. New Recruits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Arcadia Bay where everyone still have no idea where Max and Chloe really are these days. Twenty hours has past since the town send a brigade to find them, but if the police can't find them then Max and Chloe's only hope is with the investment of Pompidou and the gang: Alyssa, Stella, Frank and Pompidou (and many more.) At the church they are greeted by two guardians angels, who will do anything in their testament to find Max and Chloe regardless of their own lives; however, it has come to an unfortunate conflict into which Alyssa and Stella are engaged when one of the guardian angels refused to work with them, so it's up to Pompidou to solve all this minor setback before getting all the gang riled up for their main mission.

Chapter 3: New Recruits (Part 1: Collaboration)

“Please, please…oh, please, help us…I beg of you. They took my Rachel away…I love her so much. They took her from me. Please…would you please help me? Give me strength and the will to find the devil that took her away from me. Please, blessed my love, Rachel Ambers, and my friends, Chloe and Max, hoping they are safe. I will do anything…I will change my whole life…I beg of you to help me: my savior, the almighty Lord.” Frank was kneeling down on the altar, supplicating to his one and only Lord with a crucifix in his hand as he sobbed and wept for the safety of his lover and friends. Stella and Alyssa were at the back, giving him some space to pray as he treats himself for some solace and solitude which he needed.

The light from the candles on the altar was waning, but the full moon in the sky helped direct more light to the church through the crystalline painted windows of biblical imageries. Last night was wicked, seeing two moons in the night sky than later in the evening, one of the moons just vanished from the sky like a hologram being distorted. People around the world would not believe their eyes as some of the denizens of Arcadia Bay snapped photos of the divine occurrence with their smartphones, but the internet was always sardonic, and have come to the belief that it was a hoax and that the photos were probably photoshopped. The internet also did not come to believe about the beached whales and the solar eclipse because there were just too many things going on at once in a small town like this. No one would believe the people of Arcadia Bay except, that is, for the people who reside locally in Arcadia Bay. 

From the distance as Frank was preaching to the Lord, Stella and Alyssa was trying to listen in as his words echoed through the structural bones of the interior, but even that was rather imprudent and his voice did not suffice to their hearing faculty as all they can hear were sobbing whispers.

“I feel really sorry for him.” Stella moped, lugubriously as she stared at him in the distance.

“Me too.” Alyssa sighed solemnly in the dark. “If this is the person whom Frank had mentioned earlier that can help us in our case, then you can forget about it.”

“Atheist?” inquired Stella.

“Yup.” They both fist-bumped. 

“What are we doing? This is no way of trying to help the case, instead we need to go out there and look for more clues and some lead to the culprit.” Stella said vigorously with determination.

“And talk to suspects and witnesses…and oh, set up traps and we can use you as bait for the culprit ” Alyssa added.

“You could knock it off, Alyssa, that’s just messed up.” Stella snapped at her.

“Sorry.” Alyssa’s energies was draining stagnantly as the evening passed by.

Meanwhile, at the altar, Frank was still sobbing and praying, waiting patiently and solemnly for the Lord to answer his prayer, but nothing came and Alyssa, the atheist, hated waiting for Frank to finish his entreaty when she could be bashing witnesses in the alley for answers to finding Max and Chloe and Rachel Ambers, too, like a total badass, and chasing bad guys; but given her poor performance in physical education, she could entitle Frank and Pompidou to such privilege of chasing down their suspects since they both desired revenge. Pompidou did not know the meaning of revenge but the dog appeared to love Rachel. Wherever Rachel Ambers is, they hoped she isn’t dead; they might found her shirt in the junkyard but not the beautiful deity that comes with it.

Alyssa and Stella would have done the investigation alone, without Frank, however the thought of a killer scares them to death. Alas, they were too mentally lethargic as the idea of a killer in Arcadia Bay would kidnap them and kill them, it frightened them on the brink. Stella squinted her eyes and noticed a silhouette by Frank side and she calmly notified Alyssa who was trying to snooze off for a bit.

The shadow crept up to Frank, and Frank suddenly saw the shadow looming over him as he opened his eyes and simultaneously turned around, only to see his prayer answered, and not perilous threat,as the figure unraveled from the shadow and stepped into the effulgent light.

“Frank,”

“David!” They both hugged each other even though they despised one another but a critical circumstance meant both sides had to cooperate with each other in order to reach their objective: finding out where Chloe, Max and Rachel, and who is the culprit behind this string of kidnapped cases.

“I totally shipped them.” Alyssa announced.

Stella elbowed her: “Shit, it’s Mr. Madsen, we have to leave before he finds us and tell Principal Wells on us; I don’t want to be expelled from Blackwell.”

“Oh, man, what is the Blackwell’s security doing here?” Alyssa asked, nervously. 

“He’s baptist.” Stella answered as she found the solution to their dire predicament: she crouched down onto the floor and try crawling her way out to the exit like a worm.

“Great idea, Stella.” Alyssa dropped down with a loud thud, getting a reprimanding shush from Stella as she attempted to crawl her way out to the exit.

“Have you find any clues to Chloe and Max?” David inquired, smiling at Frank.

“Yeah, here it is?” Frank produced Rachel’s torn shirt out of his pocket.

“Oh, shit, I know how much you love her.” David said.

“You have no idea.” he smiled but trying to repress himself from crying. 

Alyssa, on the other hand: “I can’t believe Frank is taking credit of what we found in the junkyard.”

“Alyssa, please.” Stella rolled her eyes. “Keep moving.”

“Fine.” Alyssa mumbled, angrily.

Back to the altar. 

“I wish we can have a miracle from all this.”

“Me too. Everything that has been happening so far is beyond anything I have ever seen.”

All of the sudden, by the exit, a door slammed against Alyssa and Stella, pounding them against the wall, leaving them a bruise while all the flames from the candle went out. 

“Did someone asks for a miracle?” a familiar voice broadcasted throughout the room. The light switch subsequently flickered at the perfect timing as our mysterious quarry was in the spotlight.

“KATE!” Alyssa called out, frightening everyone present in the room with a heart attack.

“Sin!” Kate shoved her crucifix at her and Stella. “Why are you awaken at the hours of the wolf?”

Alyssa got up from her knees and brushing residual dirt and dust from her. “I got a better question: why are you talking like that?”

David broke into the conversation: “You two should be in your dorms! And you: shouldn’t you supposed to be at the hospital?”

“I was discharged from the hospital.”

“By whose order?” 

“My order! I am eighteen years old, and I can release myself.”

Stella took the position as the mediator. “Calm down, you guys. We need the help we can get.” 

“Well, you can forget about it because I am not going to jeopardize any of your lives by the wrong hands. All you three have to return to your dorm and let the adults do this job, because none of you have any professional skills in sleuthing.”

“You have to take all four of us including Pompidou, if you want Frank.” Alyssa protested.

“What…I don’t need any of you guys, I have the police department on my side.” David said.

“It’s been over twenty four hours, they’re sending a brigade of five men to search for Max and Chloe, but no offense, I believe the police department hasn’t the best luck ever since Rachel’s disappearance. You need us more than we do!” Stella persisted.

David hesitated for a moment and reluctantly affirm their obligation. “Fine, but I’ll let you know that whatever happened to you guys, I will eventually quit my job so that way I won’t be sued for the liability of any of you girls’ safety. He indicated the three girls.

“Fine by me.” Alyssa said. “But first I have to make a serious protocol of your enrollment in our gang.” 

“What?” Stella inquired.

“Not to worry, Stella, this is just a simple protocol, it won’t take long, I guarantee.” Alyssa whistled and Pompidou barged inside the church.

“Aw, it’s Pompidou.” Kate exclaimed.

Pompidou went to Alyssa, asking for a rub down. “All righty, now, Pompidou, I want to ask you if you can do something for me.” Pompidou perked his ears and tilted his head like he was in for a surprise. She faces David as though she was going to challenge him to a duel: “The only way you can be in our team is if Pompidou approves of you, if not, then you can’t really join our team.”

David was galvanized and arched his eyebrows banefully, contemplating at how stupid and ridiculous this protocol was. “Are you serious?” 

“I’ve never been so serious in my life.”

David turned to see the facial expressions of everyone in the room, and they were all nodding in consensus with this ritual except for Stella who thought Alyssa’s idiosyncrasy was pretty idiotic and radical. “Fine with me then.”

“Okay, then, David, the only way you could get accepted is if you could make Pompidou like you.“ Alyssa turned on an app on her smartphone and started playing a dramatic, suspenseful music from that gameshow where you could win a million dollars by answering a lot of questions. “You have thirty second on the clock. Let’s begin.”

“Uh, dear,” David whispered hoarsely through his teeth. He could hear the timer ticking from her smartphone then he remembered he had a very special item in his bag, and produced it quickly. “Pompidou, would you like a Scooby snack.” 

The dog launches excitedly at David, bit his hand and stole the box of doggie treats from him as the buzzer went off.

“Time’s out! Congratulation, David, you’re in.” Alyssa announced, playing a victory tune from her smartphone and dancing with Kate.

“He fucking bit me!” David yelled as he soothed his hand. “You guys are fucking idiots!”

“Sin!” Kate thrust the crucifix at him. “You have a very foul mouth!”

“Yeah, dude, way to set an example for us kids.” Alyssa added. David had to hold his temper before going off rampage against these meddling twerps.

“Well, if you guys need me, I will be warming up the trailer.” Frank left with Pompidou, trailing back to the parking lot. 

“That was brilliant, Alyssa!” Kate remarked.

“I know.”

“Kate, why are you here? Shouldn’t you be at the hospital?” Stella prompted.

“Max is gone. I have to find her. She’s my friend and she needs me like I needed a shoulder to cry on.” 

“That’s fine with me: let’s go.” Alyssa said, locking her arm to Stella’s and Kate’s arm and marching to the exit. The three musketeers was following David to the trailer but their trek was perturbed by Arcadia Bay’s rendition of Bill and Ted.

“Hey, watch where you’re going!” David yelled in the dark as he saw Trevor knocking him over as he did a nose dive on the rails. David was still soothing his hands after the fiasco Pompidou had incur.

Trevor and Justin couldn’t cope with reality after their nightly prescription of baking weeds into their system, and currently their using this euphoric phase as an excuse for reconciliation: Trevor was going out with Dana, and Justin has a crush on her, but these two were making up like Max and Chloe.

“Oh, sorry, about that,” Justin said, resolving on his best friend’s behalf. “Trevor doesn’t talk much: the developer didn’t really have enough cash in their budget to hire an actor to give my friend here a voice.” Unfortunately, Justin was breaking the fourth wall in this story.

Justin squinted at David, whom he perceived him to be Mr. Potato head. “You-you sound familiar. Do I know from somewhere?” He burped while his wooziness caused him to lose composure with his stance.

“Are you guys smoking grass?” David ventilated their breaths and the waft of skunk-weed permeated in his mind. “I could have you boys suspended if that’s what you want!”

“Holy Maxaroni and queso!!!!!” Justin’s eyes widened and scrambled back along with Trevor. “You’re Chloe’s step-douche,” he turned to his best friend, “dude, that’s Chloe’s step-douche.” They laughed it off for a moment as Justin launched upwards and grabbed David’s moustache which he thought was Mr. Potato’s moustache. “Step-douche is in town.”

“Call me step-douche one more time, and I’ll cut you.” David warned, prodding his finger at them. 

“I didn’t say it; you said it!” Justin retorted, feeling unjustified. David snarled at them and they run off, getting their skateboards and leaving the premises.

“Step-fuehrer!” Justin yelled out from the distance while stumbling his skateboard onto as his precious family jewels became the only collateral damage in the partake. “My balls.”

“Sin!” Kate whispered quietly to herself as she shook her head glumly. 

“Do you think we should recruit them?” Alyssa asked Stella. 

“That’s not a very bright idea: they would jeopardize our entire investigation.”

“Okay,” Alyssa said morosely.

Frank opened the door from inside the trailer and called them out: “What are you guys waiting for? We don’t have all day!”

“I have my Mustang so I’m driving my own car.” David said. “Does anyone want to go with me?” 

There was silence with the crickets chirping in the background until Alyssa broke the silence.

“There is no separation clause in the Pompidou gang: you’re either in or you’re out?” Alyssa squinted her eyes balefully at David.

“Okay, I’m in.” David assented against his will. 

“Where are we going exactly?” Kate asked.

Stella answered that in a riddle with an ominous voice: “There’s only one place where secrets lie and the cheaters cheat, a place where teachers and students meet.”

“Fine with me: we’re going to hell!” David said.

“Sin.” 

“Where the teacher is black and his last name is Wells.” 

“Now, that’s racist, Alyssa!”


End file.
